Page 10 of Breaking Vincent

I realise the outfit I chose doesn’t really fit in the fancy-dress theme, so I walk back to the section of clothes that were put in the fuck-no pile and see what would work well with what I have on.

For a person who doesn’t socialise much, I have way too many dressing-up items. A mix of animal ears and face paints in every colour fill up the box. I suppose I could shove a pair of cat ears on and paint my face, but that seems boring.

I want to look sexy, not cute.

As I’m close to calling it a day and getting ready to just order something off of Amazon, I feel something smooth at the bottom of the pile.

I dig my hands through all the junk and pull free a hood. A black latex gimp mask to be exact. The mask has dried up from sitting in the wardrobe for so long, I can either try to restore it or just buy a new one from one of the sex shops in town.

I stretch the mask with only a small amount of pressure and it barely eases back into its original state. I need to buy some new things anyway, so I may as well just buy a new mask while I’m at it. Plus, now that my hair hangs halfway down my back, I need a hood with a hole in the back so I can pony up my hair.

Deciding to take one more photo, I lean up on my knees in front of the mirror and hold the latex mask over my face, keeping my fingertips tight against my forehead. Making sure my thighs are spread as wide as I can get them as I push my chest out, I press click on the side button of my phone.

I sit back on my ass and scroll through the collection of pictures; they all look good, but the last set is the best and this way nobody will be able to see my face.

It's perfect and oh, so scandalous.

Opening up my profile on Voyeurism Fans – which I had already entered my preferred details and I add the photo to my feed.

Once that’s all done, I quickly tidy up the bedroom and strip off my clothes, before hanging them up in the wardrobe, ready for whenever the party is.

I’m working tomorrow so I need to start getting ready for bed, it’s not like I need the beauty sleep, but I’m tired as fuck.

After having a quick shower and making sure the front door is locked and the lights are off, I finally crawl into bed. “Psss, psss, psss,” I call out to Mr Mittens and he ignores me, until I do it a few more times and he eventually shuffles towards me. He won’t let me cuddle him, but I like the feeling of knowing he's there. I force myself to go to sleep instead of checking my phone to see if anybody liked my photos.

I wake up to my phone buzzing underneath my pillow. I normally put my phone on charge before I go to sleep, but for some reason, I must have forgotten last night.

Stretching my arm under my pillow, I grab my phone to turn off my alarm and see I only have 5% power.Fuck me.

Plugging my phone in and hoping it’ll charge enough before I have to leave for work. I like to scroll through Reddit in the mornings before I have to get up, but I guess we aren’t doing that today.

“Alexa, play my morning playlist,” I say in the direction of the speaker.

A few seconds later music fills up the empty space and I start to feel human enough to get out of bed and start getting ready for the day.

I walk to the bathroom and leave the door open so I can hear my tunes as I wash my face and brush my teeth,

Choosing an outfit is difficult every single day, because how am I meant to choose between twenty band T-shirts and five pairs of identical black skinny jeans? Decisions. Decisions.

I pull out my Ghost t-shirt and skinny jeans number four; which are almost the same as skinny jeans number two except are a slightly different shade of black and have a rip on the left knee instead of the right.

I huff to myself, “This is why I need a master.” He can make me wear whatever outfit and then I won’t have to deal with the mundane task.

I’m lazy. Deal with it.

Just as I’ve finished getting ready the cat is wailing by his food bowl. I don’t know how he makes his meow so deep and loud, but I know he’ll continue to do it until he’s been fed. I open a pouch of his food and snort to myself when I read the namePosh Pussylabelled on the packet.

We've tried many different types of cat food and he stuck his nose up at the majority of them, so when I was looking for recommendations online and I saw this one, I just thought it was funny. Turns out my baby likes the crudeness too, because he now refuses to eat any other brand.

After saying my goodbyes to the kitty, I walk to the café to grab myself a coffee. I could have coffee at home, and I do have the time for it, but why would I make myself a boring coffee when I can have a sugary, creamy, syrupy vanilla blend from this place?

To be honest I come here at least once a day when I’m working, sometimes twice a day if I’m feeling extra. I’m probably the cafe's main source of revenue at this point, but fuck it. Why shouldn’t I have things that I enjoy?

And maybe I like the possibility of bumping into Mr angry eyes again. It’s been around a week and a half since I crashed into him and he won’t get the fuck out of my head.

So yeah, it’s a good thing I come here, whether that’s for the coffee or the chance to see his handsome face again.

Chapter 6 –